


Three Times Stu's Stalker Called Back and One Time He Didn't Need To

by Zoi no miko (zoi_no_miko)



Category: Phone Booth (2002)
Genre: Drabble Sequence, M/M, Stockholm Syndrome, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-19
Updated: 2013-01-19
Packaged: 2017-11-26 02:58:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/645798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/pseuds/Zoi%20no%20miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four short stories about the beginnings of a relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Voice

Sometimes Stu walks by the street corner where the phone booth used to stand, but no one recognizes him now. The last working phone booth in New York city, he found out. There's a bank of regular pay phones there now, stalls with no privacy. Still, sometimes he stands and waits in the hope that one will ring. Sometimes he even picks up a receiver, but all he gets is dead air. He wonders what the voice is doing now. Perhaps he's moved on to another city, one that still has phone booths in it.

He's tried to look, to find him. In the weeks following the incident he poured over all the information about the German porn king and the rotten wall street exec over and over, memorizing the details of each death, trying to find a similarity, something that will allow him to recognize the voice's work. He tells himself that he wants to help find the voice, see him brought to justice. But it's a lie. Stu doesn't know what he wants.

Stu starts over, starts honest like he promised he wood, but it's difficult. He starts from the bottom, works long hours, and spends even more hours researching unexplained deaths by Sniper rifle. Kelly leaves him. He gets over it.

When his cell phone finally rings, he almost doesn't answer the unknown number. Then he picks up, and he hears that voice, and suddenly his knees are like Jello, a rush of emotion not unlike desire, not unlike lust. His stomach is doing flips, and his mind clings to the familiar throaty tones like he hasn't eaten in weeks.

"Hello, Stu. I hope this call doesn't come at an inopportune time, I'm sure you weren't expecting it. But I promised I'd come back and check up on you, Stu. Did you miss me?"

You never left, he wants to say. I hear you everywhere, with everything I do, but it's not real. It's not you. I hear your voice when I work, when I sleep, when I touch myself at night, until all I've been able to think about is finding you again.

He can't bring himself to tell the voice how much power he still has over him, how many times he's dreamed of seeing his face again. But he can't lie. And god, he doesn't want the voice to leave. So Stu simply answers, "Yes."


	2. Hush

Stu's hysterical, the night that Kelly leaves him. He's broken, completely devastated, even though he's known that this was coming for weeks, perhaps months. Because it's not about the loss of the woman who he once thought was the love of his life... it's about failure, about everything he was supposed to do and has been trying to do to turn his life around. Kelly is just one more failure, one more sign of how useless he is to the world.

He goes to a shady little bar and gets shitfaced on cheap whiskey, so much so that he almost misses the call. "Hello?"

"Stu. I want you to leave that disgusting hole in the wall and come outside."

The voice sobers him, just a little, makes his pulse race and his stomach twist with a strange mix of anxiety and nervousness. He follows the man's instructions outside and down several blocks, into an alley and out of the light, and his pulse beats quicker. "I'm sorry. Please don't be angry at me, please. I'm trying so hard. I'm doing the best I can, I'm so sorry I can't get anything right."

"Hush." He hears the voice over the phone, but it resonates strangely, and he realizes that he can hear it in the darkness of the alley as well. He turns with a start, seeing only the silhouette of a man in the darkness, the glint of light off glasses, and all he can do is stand frozen as the man steps towards him. His heart pounds painfully loud in his ears, every part of him tight with nervousness, almost dizzy as he reaches to cup Stu's face gently in the darkness and cover his mouth with a warm, lingering kiss.

"You're doing just fine, Stu," the man murmurs, words warm against his mouth. "I'm so proud of you."

When he remembers to breathe again the man has already slipped away, disappearing through a service door in the wall that has no handle. The call on his phone has ended. But Stu doesn't try to follow; it's not his place.

This is enough, for now.


	3. The Raspberry Scarf

Stu's favourite scarf was missing, something that irritated him every time he thought about it. Raspberry coloured and fine woven, the kind of scarf that was for fashion rather than warmth. He looked rather smart in it, and since he'd moved to the more honest side of the business, he'd needed all the help he could get.

At first he thought he'd misplaced it, packed it away somewhere for the summer. He turned his tiny bachelor pad upside down twice before admitting defeat. Then he called Kelly - never pleasant since she'd left him - but she only sighed and swore to him that she hadn't taken a thing of his.

He'd come home one day to find a tissue wrapped package sitting on his dining room table, and stared at it for a few minutes, knowing that no one had access to this piece of shit apartment but him. The scarf inside was navy, and much finer than the one he had lost. There was a note, handwritten - rather boldly, Stu thought, because he could and really should take this to the police.

_"Stu,_  
A replacement for your lost scarf, and a reward for your good deeds.  
Please be sure to wear it, as it would be a shame if you caught cold  
and ruined your lovely voice." 

No signature. Never a name, just a voice on the other end of the phone, one that called him almost daily, who demanded so much more from him now than just his honesty. Stu sighed, and brought the scarf to his lips, shivering at the thought of -him- touching it. Then his phone rang, and he turned towards his bedroom automatically, the scarf bringing him just a little closer to the man he wanted so badly.  
~~~


	4. Something of You

Stu lets his hands stroke over John's bare form one morning when they awake, tracing his abs and the line of his hips, fingers stopping at the small tattoo, low on his pelvis, of the two headed eagle.

"Do you think I should get a tattoo?" he asks, and John shifts slightly against him, pressing his lips to his hair.

"I was very young when I had that done," he says slowly, fingers smoothing up and down Stu's spine. "I'm not sure I would do it again now. Not because I dislike it, but tattoos help identify you. It could be dangerous."

"Even if no one can see this one?" he asks, fingertips still teasing the skin. "I could get one here too. No one would see it but you."

"Do you have something in mind?"

He shrugs, and leans up to kiss him. "Not really. Just something of you." He wets his lips, meeting John's gaze, and lets his voice lower to the certain husky timbre that he's learned makes his lover so crazy. "Something for you to kiss, something to say that I belong to you."

It has the desired effect, John's eyes narrowing ever so slightly, the corners of his lips turning up into the hint of a smile. Stu's watched him for so long and become so familiar with his mannerisms that he doesn't even have to wait for John to speak to know how pleased he is. The approval washes over Stu like a warm embrace, and is somehow more of a turn on than the thought of the tattoo.

"I'd like that," John murmurs, low and throaty, the rumble going straight to Stu's cock. He presses Stu onto his back as he moves over him, claiming his mouth with an appreciative moan. Stu arches up to him unrestrainedly, nerves singing from the warmth of his lover's touch, and thinks he should have come up with this idea a long time ago.

~~~


End file.
